


Pretty in Pink

by catsadams



Category: Criminal Minds (US TV)
Genre: F/M, also spencer in lingerie because :), gratuitous spencer gets pegged fic, literally pwp
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-20
Updated: 2020-10-20
Packaged: 2021-03-08 22:53:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,138
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27124099
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/catsadams/pseuds/catsadams
Summary: It's very impolite to open your own presents.
Relationships: Spencer Reid/Original Female Character(s), Spencer Reid/Reader
Kudos: 58





	Pretty in Pink

Spencer was asleep on the couch, his face buried in the throw pillow. One hand had long-since fallen off the couch and dangled towards the floor, while the other was thrown up by his head. You set your work bag by the door quietly, a smile on your lips as you padded over and laid down on top of him. 

A groan of annoyance escaped him as he struggled to turn his head, releasing a huff of breath as he blinked himself awake. “You’re home late,” he muttered.

“No one else in the office knows how to do their fucking jobs,” you said with a saccharine voice, snuggling against him. “Did a package come for me today?”

“Mhmm,” he hummed, pointing over to the torn plastic and cardboard box that was sitting on the kitchen counter. “It’s cute.”

You snorted, brushing his hair back so your lips could ghost against his ear. “It was supposed to be a surprise,” you chided. He let out a contented sigh at the feel of your breath against him and you felt a grin spreading across your lips. “Did you like imagining me in it?”

“Mhmm.” You could see the proud smirk on his lips when you sat up, his face smushed against the pillows. You rolled your eyes. Even though he was nearly 28, Spencer could be such a  _ boy _ sometimes. The pretty ( _ tiny) _ pink skirt, the sheer white top with the pink bows on the sleeves… he’d probably gotten hard just  _ imagining _ it.

You stood up, padding over to the box and at the poorly folded lingerie inside. When you turned, Spencer was peering over at you expectantly. You’d met him on a case, of all things. You’d been one of the last people your college roommate had talked to and had to go through the events of the night with Spencer and one of his fellow agents. You hadn’t expected it to go further than thinking he was cute and never seeing him again, but after the case, Spencer had kept in touch.  _ And kept in touch. And kept in touch _ .

You were the one to cave and ask him on a date, and it had been all uphill from there. He’d been a virgin when he met you at 25, which you figured explained how shy and nervous he was at the prospect of taking you out to dinner and a movie. He’d kissed you respectfully at the door, and that was about as far as it went for the first few months until he was more comfortable. 

_ Jesus fucking christ, if that Spencer could see the two of you now _ .

“Should I try it on?” You asked, raising a brow as you held up the top against your blouse. Spencer could hardly get a word out, so he nodded eagerly instead. You slipped into the bedroom, stripping off your work clothes lazily before redressing in the skimpy lingerie. You stood in front of the mirror, giving a little turn as you observed it.

You knew it was going to be racy, but  _ Jesus _ , your tits were on display and the skirt barely covered the bottom of your ass.  _ God,  _ you thought with a giddy grin,  _ Spencer’s going to lose it. _

“Hey, baby?” You called, peeking out the door. He looked at you expectantly from the couch, a dopey grin on his lips. “Promise you won’t laugh.”

He made a show of crossing his heart and you laughed, keeping him waiting a bit longer before you pushed the door open and made your way in front of him. His mouth fell open as he looked at you, a deep blush painting his cheeks. 

Internally, you knew you had him right where you wanted him… but that didn’t mean that  _ he _ had to know that. A pout found its way to your lips as you scrunched your brows together. “You don’t like it, do you?” You sighed, crossing your arms over your chest. 

“ _ No! _ No! I love it,” he said quickly, practically spluttering in an attempt to get the words out as quickly as he could. 

You peered at him, a tiny smile quirking your lips. “Really?”

“Mhmm,” he assured, wrapping his arms around your waist to tug you closer. “A million times better than I imagined.” He pressed his lips to your chest, and you could feel the pressure and warmth through the thin, sheer fabric. Without moving an inch, he looked up at you through his lashes. “You’re so beautiful.”

You ran your fingers through his hair, relishing in the way his eyes fluttered then closed contentedly at the feeling. His lips moved against you, pressing chaste kisses along the plane of your chest. “Baby, let me go take this off,” you chided, tucking his hair behind his ear. “It’s so skimpy.”

“Leave it on please,” he said, his voice muffled against you. “You look so pretty.”

You giggled as he tugged you into his lap, his lips painting soft kisses all over the expanse of your chest he could reach. You lifted his chin up with two fingers, making him meet your gaze. 

“You’re not even embarrassed that you’re being so needy?” You chided, running your thumb across his cheek. He shook his head, leaning just slightly into your touch. “No? My baby doesn’t have any shame anymore?”

A soft moan escaped him as you slipped your hand between the two of you, feeling how hard he already was through the fabric of his pants. You raised a brow, a grin spreading across your lips as you palmed him, running your hand back and forth along his length. His head fell back across the cushions, shaking breaths escaping him as he struggled to keep himself quiet. 

“You’re being so quiet, baby,” You hummed, stilling your hand. “Does it not feel good?”

“No! No, it--”

“No? It doesn’t feel good?”

He was flustered, his chest and neck were even pink where they peeked out of his button-down shirt. He was practically pouting as he looked at you, his chest rising and falling as his heart rate picked up. “You make it so hard to think,” he managed, clearly annoyed that you’d stopped.

You raised a brow.  _ He hadn’t answered your question _ . “It feels good,” he finally said with a huff. “Please keep going.”

You rolled your eyes, undoing the button and zipper to his pants as best as you could as he needily bucked against your hand. “Baby if you don’t control yourself I’m not letting you get off tonight.”

He nodded, crying out when you slipped your hand beneath the band of his boxers. He gasped out soft  _ thank you _ s as you moved your hand along his cock, reveling in the way he came undone beneath you. Every so often, he would twitch in your hand, his breath catching, stomach tensing. You liked having that effect on him. You liked knowing that you were the only one who knew him like this. 

High, desperate whines passed his lips as you worked him in your hand, brushing your thumb across the tip  _ just _ so you could hear his voice crack. A giggle escaped you and he threw his head back again, giving you access to the expanse of his throat. 

Of course, Spencer would never be so bold to _ask_ you to do things to him. He would stammer and stutter and flub his way through any desperate request. But his _body language_ you knew, and you felt at least a little obligated to accommodate him. 

Your teeth grazed his throat. His pulse thrummed beneath your lips as you placed an open-mouthed kiss just at the junction of his neck and jaw. It didn’t take long for his moans to devolve into whimpers and keens as you marked up his throat, his hips bucking into your hand, his  _ not-so-subtle  _ way of begging for more. 

“Aw, are you getting close, baby?” You asked, teeth grazing the shell of his ear. 

“Mhmm,” he whined, his breath coming in staccato pants. His hands grasped at you desperately, one slipping beneath your skirt to grab hold of your thigh, the other finding its way between the thin fabric of the top to knead at your breast. 

He always got so handsy when he was about to cum, touching you any place he could. You weren’t going to pretend like you didn’t love it. It was like a reminder that  _ you _ were the one doing this to him, like his touch was worship at your altar. 

“Be polite, baby,” you chide, leaning back to meet his gaze. He bit into his lip, his brows furrowing. “You know you need to ask me nicely.”

“ _ Fuck _ ,” he groaned, and you gave a soft  _ tsk _ of your tongue. “Sorry, I’m sorry.  _ Please _ .”

You furrowed your brow, the pace of your hand relentless. “Please what, Spence? You can use your words, baby, it’s not that hard.”

Sweat beaded along his brow, and he gave an annoyed whine. “ _ Please _ , will you let me cum?  _ Please, please, please _ .” His voice trailed off into needy moans as you thought about it, chewing on your lip like you were  _ really  _ considering it.

Finally, you slowed your hand to a stop and leaned in. “Not tonight.”

When you removed your hand and zipped his pants back up, the only noise he could manage was a soft,  _ uh _ , as you stood and adjusted your skirt. “Good boys don’t open their own presents early, do they Spence?”

He was practically pouting, his hands clenched against his thighs. “No.”

You leaned down, pressing a gentle kiss to the corner of his mouth, which never failed to make a tiny smile quirk up his lips. “Sorry, baby,” you murmured. “I couldn’t resist. Try again tomorrow.”

—————

Spencer was literally  _ grumpy _ . Three days had passed and he still  _ couldn’t figure out  _ what he needed to do in order for you to let him cum. And  _ maybe _ you would’ve just told him if he hadn’t just  _ assumed _ you’d bought the outfit for yourself. Which, to be fair, was a reasonable assumption.  _ But _ it wasn’t like you hadn’t dressed Spencer up in pretty things before. It wasn’t like he hadn’t dressed  _ himself _ up in pretty things before.

“Spence!” You called as you pushed open the door to the apartment. “I brought movies to watch.” The lights were all on, the TV was running, but Spencer was nowhere to be seen. You furrowed your brow, meandering around the kitchen, then through the living room, before finally making your way into the bedroom. 

_ Jesus fucking christ. _

“I figured it out,” He said plainly, his cheeks flushed a deep pink. He was sitting on the foot of the bed, the pink of the skirt you’d worn only days prior in a nice contrast to the pale skin of his thighs. 

“Of course you did,” you said with a grin, crossing the room to brush your fingers through his hair. He gasped, leaning his head back to look up at you. “You’re a genius, aren’t you?”

“Mhmm, sometimes,” he said gently, taking your hand in his. You were about to interlace your fingers with his when he brought your pointer and middle fingers to his mouth, resting them just against his bottom lip. 

Your heart stuttered in your chest, and you fought the heat racing to your cheeks as you pushed your fingers deeper, relishing in the way his eyes closed and he hummed contentedly around your digits. 

With your free hand, you toyed with his hair, relishing in the feeling of his little moans muffled against your fingers. 

“You gonna tell me what you want, Spence?” You asked, removing your fingers from his lips. His eyes followed the string of spit that followed your fingers, connected to his bottom lip. He only looked at you after it broke, his eyes wide and innocent. 

“I want you to fuck me,” he said, a smile turning up the corners of his mouth. Your own smile spread to match before you leaned down to press a chaste kiss to his lips. “ _ Please _ .”

“ _ Jesus, _ ” You muttered, running your thumb along his bottom lip. “You want it that bad, hm? So bad that you’re being perfectly good for me?”

He nodded, leaning forward in an attempt to take your thumb into his mouth. You pulled your hand back, holding his head in place for a moment as you took in the sight of him. “How’s your knee, baby?” You asked, breaking from the scene. 

“It’s fine,” he replied, sitting up a little straighter. “Doesn’t really hurt as badly today.”

“Yeah?” You asked, running your hand along his thigh, running your thumb along his knee softly. “So you’re good?”

He nodded, a sheepish blush painting his cheeks. “I think as long as you don’t have me on my knees I’ll be good.”

You leaned in, kissing his lips gently. “I can’t fuck you wearing my work clothes, can I?” You asked, turning around to rifle through your lingerie drawer. “What do you think? Should I match you?” You held up a pink set with ruffles and bows and he nodded eagerly. “Yeah, I think so too.”

You made your way into the bathroom, stripping quickly before you changed into the lingerie. You ran your hands along the fabric, a smile on your lips as you did a turn in the mirror. Finally, you stepped back out, flustered by the sheer  _ adoration _ of Spencer’s gaze. You did a turn with only a small roll of your eyes and he grinned, pulling you closer by your waist. 

You giggled raking your fingers across his chest through the sheer fabric. He groaned, bucking beneath you. “ _ Wait _ , I have an idea,” you said suddenly, pulling out of his grasp to make your way into the bathroom once more. You dug beneath the cabinet and retrieved your makeup bag, a grin on your lips as you returned with it in hand. 

He had moved since you left, clearly. He’d gotten the strap and lube from the dresser and placed them at the foot of the bed  _ expectantly. _ And you would have chided him about being so impatient if he wasn’t so fucking cute. 

“Can I put some makeup on you baby? You’re already so pretty, I just want to see how sweet you look with it on,” you said, giving him a hopeful smile. He nodded and you straddled his lap, retrieving an unopened tube of mascara you’d got as a freebie. “Okay, eyes open.”

He obeyed easily, blinking just a bit as you coated his lashes in the dark mascara. You sat back, scrunching your nose as you observed his face, turning him ever so slightly with two fingers against his jaw. Blush was next. A decent amount applied to his cheeks and to his nose. He kept scrunching his face up at the feeling of the fluffy brush against his skin, and you both giggled as you realized how  _ terrible _ he was at sitting still when he was so ridiculously turned on. 

Lip Gloss came next-- a sparkly pink color that tasted like watermelon. His tongue darted out as soon as you had applied it, tasting the sticky sweet flavor. “Don’t lick it off!” You chided, reapplying his lips before putting some on yourself. 

“Did you get yourself ready for me?” You asked, brushing his hair back. He nodded, his blush even more pronounced with the addition of the sweet pink on his face. “Yeah? You’re so good for me Spence. Lay against the pillows and get comfortable for me, okay?”

You crawled between his legs, grinning at the sight of his cock straining beneath the skirt, hiking the fabric up even higher. You pressed a kiss to his thigh before nipping at the fleshy skin slightly, making him jolt. He flipped the hem of the skirt, giving you access to his hard cock and you thanked him with one last soft kiss to his thigh. 

“You’ll tell me if your knee starts bothering you?” You checked once more as you propped his knees up. He nodded and you grinned. “Good boy. Go ahead and touch yourself for me.”

He obeyed immediately, throwing his head back as he  _ finally _ got a bit of relief. Soft,  _ thank yous _ , fell from his lips as he bucked into his own hand, setting a decent pace. The thought of you seemed to melt right from his head at the first jolt of pleasure, his hair fanned around him like a halo, the gloss of his lips catching the light from the lamp. You uncapped the lube as best you could from your prone position, your feet up and crossed at the ankles. 

You coated your fingers generously, teasing his entrance as soft whines escaped his lips. Just like that, you’d reentered the forefront of his mind. “ _ Please, please, please,”  _ he murmured, and you weren’t sure if it was even directed towards you. 

When you finally pushed a finger in, he moaned, already clenching around you. “Spence, baby, relax for me,” you cooed, pressing a kiss to his thigh. He nodded, eyes screwed shut as he slowed his pace, trying not to let himself get so worked up. 

By the time you had worked a second finger in, he was all but whimpering, his chest heaving with every slight touch to his cock. You knew it was getting to be too much when he finally just fisted his fingers in the sheets, his hands twitching against the cotton. 

“Do you want me to stop?” You asked gently. 

“No,  _ fuck _ , please keep going.” You giggled at how  _ needy _ he was, scissoring your fingers, working them deeper until he cried out desperately. “ _ Jesus _ , fuck, don’t stop.  _ Please _ don’t stop.” You push a third finger in, fucking him slowly with your fingers as he gasps and moans. 

When you finally withdrew your fingers, he gave a needy whine, looking at you expectantly with half-lidded eyes. You wiped off the excess lube from your fingers on the sheets and hopped off the bed, sauntering over to the dresser drawer where you retrieved the wand vibrator from its box. 

“I wanna try something this time,” you said as you adjusted the buckles of the strap-on. He sat up on his elbows, watching you with wide eyes. It wasn’t like you’d never fucked him before, but something about those innocent doe eyes made it feel like the first time  _ every time _ . “I’m going to sit on this vibrator while I fuck you, because I know you like hearing what I sound like when I cum.”

“ _ Fuck _ ,” he gasped, his arms nearly giving out as you crawled onto the bed, hovering over him. “ _ Please _ just fuck me already.”

“So needy, baby,” you teased, coating the strap with a generous amount of lube. Spencer’s eyes darkened at the sight of your hand gliding up and down the fake cock, his own length twitching against his tummy. “Tell me how much you need it.”

He gave a pouty huff, embarrassment staining his cheeks a pretty pink. “ _ Please _ , I need it so bad.”

“Why?” You asked as you turned on the vibe, adjusting it so it sat  _ just so _ beneath you. A shaky moan escaped you, and Spencer whimpered as your hips bucked and the tip of the dildo moved against him. 

“Because I’m just your toy,” he finally said, all sense of shame out the window at the sight of you grinding down against the vibrator in front of him. “I’m your pretty little toy to use however you want, and right now I think you want to fuck me and make me yours.”

Normally you’d say something about him  _ assuming _ things, but between the sight of him flushed and leaking precum onto his belly and the skirt, and the feeling of the vibrator against you, you didn’t feel inclined to argue. 

And  _ holy fuck _ , your poor neighbors, because neither of you could contain the desperate moans escaping you with that first slow thrust in. The motion made you rock against the vibrator, and you threw your head back at the feeling, losing yourself in it before you felt Spencer grinding against the strap. 

“ _ Fuck _ , Spence,” you murmured, your voice already shaking and affected. “You’re such a fucking slut for me, aren’t you?”

He nodded, practically panting as you started thrusting into him at a faster pace. “ _ Yes, yes, _ I’m a slut.” His breath caught at the next thrust in, his cock twitching. “ _ Harder, _ fuck, harder please.”

Every word Spencer said went straight to your pussy, and you were in awe of the fact that even when you had him like this, he still managed to have a sort of spell over you. Shaky sobs escaped you as you fucked into him, getting so  _ fucking close _ to cumming like this. 

Spencer’s fists twisted the sheets, his moans increasing in pitch as the dildo hit his prostate again,  _ and again, and again _ . When he came, it was without warning. Ribbons of white painted his tummy and chest, spilling onto the skirt where his cock rested. 

“ _ Baby _ ,” you chided, though you would be lying if you weren’t  _ a little _ impressed that he had managed to cum untouched.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” he whined, his stomach tensing as his hips thrusted with the desire for friction. “It felt so good. I’m sorry.”

“Do you want me to keep going?” You asked, raising your hips if only to escape the endless torture of the vibrator. 

“Mhmm,” he said, the same desperation still saturating every facet of him. “Please don’t stop.”

You kept the pace, going faster only when he grabbed at your hips and  _ pulled _ you into him (and, by proxy, harder onto the vibe). Both of you were fucking messes. The mascara you had put onto Spencer ran down his face in black streaks, his lipgloss had smeared across the back of his hand from his futile attempts to quiet himself down. 

Your thighs trembled, both from sheer pleasure and the effort to keep fucking into Spence. You braced yourself against his chest and rolled your hips, which took a lot less pressure off of your thighs, but made it that much more difficult to think straight. 

“ _ F-fuck _ ,” he stammered, and you pulled yourself from your own fuckdrunk euphoria to watch the way he took his cock into his hands, jerking himself off quickly. “F-feels so g..  _ Fuck _ … so good.”

Your own moans had increased in pitch, desperate whines as you fucked into him faster, only so you could relish in the way the vibrator buzzed against you  _ right _ where you needed it. “Spence, I think I’m gonna cum,” you managed, your head thrown back as you desperately grinded down against the wand. “ _ Oh god _ , fuck,  _ fuck _ \--”

Spencer pushed your hips down, his own chest heaving at the sudden absence of touch as he held you in place to grind directly against the vibe. You cried out suddenly, your hips moving in desperate bursts as you rode out the intense waves of pleasure. You reached beneath you, turning the vibe off before directing your attention to Spence. “Want me to keep going?”

“ _ Please _ ,” he gasped, leaning back as you took his cock into your hand, stroking his length at the same pace that you were fucking him. More mascara laced tears streaked his cheeks as he got closer and closer, begging you  _ over and over _ to make him cum, to fuck him harder, to use him however you wanted. 

His voice disappeared entirely when he came, his head thrown back, mouth agape as you worked him through it. Cum painted your hands, but most of it was on his skirt, it seemed. You pulled out of him after he had come down, removing the strap and kicking it to the side for later. 

Spencer laid back, a dopey, sated smile on his lips as you crawled up the bed and curled into his side. You pressed soft kisses against his cheek, turning his head gently to capture his mouth with yours. He moaned against your lips, a smile turning the corners up. 

“You taste so good,” he said gently, licking his lips.

You pressed a kiss to the corner of his mouth. “So do you, it’s the lipgloss,” you whispered, wrinkling your nose. “How’s your knee?”

“A little sore, not bad,” he replied, his fingers tracing swirls onto your back. “How are your thighs?”

You snorted, shaking your head. “I won’t want to move tomorrow, but  _ now _ I’m going to be nice and let the shower get warm so we can both wash off.”

“Bath instead?” He suggested, exhaustion creeping into his voice. Normally, you’d complain about how gross baths were, but you were thoroughly convinced that you couldn’t say no to him… except when it’s fun. 


End file.
